


It Never Gets Easier

by Caring_Is_Not_An_Advantage



Series: Inimitable, Original [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff, Established Relationship, FTM John Watson, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Not Beta Read, Sherlock's a good boyfriend, Trans Male Character, Trans! John Watson - Freeform, Transgender John Watson, Transphobia, mentions of john's family, mentions of transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 05:42:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16655299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caring_Is_Not_An_Advantage/pseuds/Caring_Is_Not_An_Advantage
Summary: John has battled with his demons for years; the judgement of his family, his own self criticism, amongst other things. Sometimes it gets too much, sometimes its good to admit it doesn't get easier. But, at least he has Sherlock.





	It Never Gets Easier

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first ever transgender character fic. As a trans man myself, I find dysphoria something that I struggle to cope with. This was something of a vent fic as this is a reflection of my coping mechanisms and what I go through. Not every trans person experiences the same thing, so this may not be accurate for everyone.
> 
> What do you guys think? Should I write more of this?

John sighed as he glanced at his reflection in the mirror, adjusting his white binder before throwing on a button up shirt. It was invisible, but knowing it was there still made him feel a little bit queasy. 

He had come to terms with his gender identity when he was a young one, having never felt comfortable with the clothes his mother had forced him into or the games he was made to play with Harry. Most of all, he'd come to despise the name 'Samantha' (Sammy for short). John Watson was transgender but that didn't define him. He was a doctor, had served as a soldier and currently was the assistant to the worlds one and only consulting detective Sherlock Holmes.

"Hurry up, John!" The impatient voice of the man in question filtered through his bedroom door along with the scuffles of shoes against the wooden floor. 

"Sherlock, you said yourself it was barely a six. I think I can afford to take my time a little."

"Dull." The door flew open and in flounced Sherlock, his lips quirked onto a pout as he stared at the doctor plainly. 

John was stood there in his light blue button up shirt, black boxers clinging to his backside and loosening at his legs. Not ready then, considering his jeans were flung off to the side on his bed. The flustered look on John's face made him smile a little bit, approaching to close the gap between them and look him up and down.

"You look suitable-"

"Not for a bloody case I don't! Can I be allowed to put on my trousers in peace?"

Lips pressed to John's shoulder as an almost silent apology, sliding up to his neck while the shorter man sighed and relaxed into his waiting arms. He needed this, John realised as he pressed closer and took in Sherlock's scent, he needed this contact. He'd felt unlike himself lately, out of touch with things, generally sick from anxiety he couldn't explain. Except, he could. He had been suffering pretty badly recently, insecurities rearing their ugly heads after a period of silence. It was a nightmare. It was dysphoria in full throttle.

"What do you need, John?" Sherlock mumbled against his neck, shifting so he could kiss just below his ear. "I can see you're distressed, tell me how to help."

It was such a small thing, giving John control of the situation, but it helped immensely he had noticed over the last year they had been a couple. John often felt out of his depth and didn't like not having control, so this was the best way to try and help him find his way back to being himself. His John. 

"Just... hold me," John's broken whisper came, head rolling forward to rest against Sherlock's shoulder. "I need..." he took a deep breath, "I need assurance, 'lock. I need-" God, when had he started shaking?

"Shhh," he whispered, guiding John to the bed and sitting beside him. After a moment he pulled the other man onto his lap, a hand resting on his side while the other carded through silvering locks. "John, I'm here... It's okay."

"It doesn't get easier. It never gets easier, feeling like this. Feeling like I'm not a... not a..."

"Don't you dare say it," Sherlock's voice was low, warning John from saying what he was about to. "John Watson, don't you dare. You are a strong, incredible man. Nothing will ever change that, it's who you are and who you have always been."

There was a quiet sob, John hiding his face as the tears began to fall. In his mind he could hear his father mocking him, 'men don't cry. If you cry this easily you'll never be one'. His mother had never dared to comment on his decision to transition, always regarding him as 'Samantha' and misgendering him. Even Harry had found it difficult, claiming her sister was now dead and John was merely a stranger. An impostor. He didn't belong. He had never belonged, always shunned. It was why he and his family now had little to no contact, why would they? All he had now was Sherlock and that was enough for him. The one person who mattered in his life who loved him for who he was.

"You are Doctor John Watson, former Captain, and the man I love. Don't let me ever catch you questioning that again." Sherlock's voice pierced through the noise in his head, John clasping onto the words like a gift from God. They brought comfort, enough to satiate the beasts lurking in the depths of his mind. Even for a little while.

Breathing deeply and slowly, John found his panic slowly leaving. He could feel Sherlock's heartbeat against his chest and he managed to look him in the eye. The detectives eyes conveyed patience, love, the gentle message of 'I'm here, its alright, you're not alone'. God, John loved him. He had taken a while to confess it, but he really did. 

"Feeling any better?" 

"... A little," he confessed, sighing and rubbing his face in exhaustion. "Thanks, for being here... not everyone would do this."

"But I am not everyone, as you like to point out often." Sherlock teased gently, leaning to press a chaste kiss to his boyfriend's lips. "I love you, John Watson. Now, are you happy to get dressed? Graham will be waiting for us, you know."

"You know his name's not Graham, Sherlock. I can get dressed, I'll be ready in five. I bloody well love you too, Sherlock Holmes." The kiss was returned before John scrambled to put himself into his loosely fitted jeans. He could face the day, once he was on a case he'd probably forget this morning. He hoped anyways. 

"Good, I'll wait for you outside. When we come back tonight, we can grab a bite from Angelo's on the way." Sherlock rose to his feet and headed towards the door, "then, I'm hoping you will let me show you just how much I admire you."

A promise, one that induced a smile of John's, before the detective vanished. John felt a bit better, enough to straighten his attire and head out after his partner rather quickly. They did have a job to do after all.

 


End file.
